


A Flexible Arrangement

by Hannibalsimago, purplesocrates



Category: Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Jagten | The Hunt (2012), Rejseholdet | Unit One
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Comfort/Angst, Cuddles, EatTheRare, First Time, Fresh Meat Friday, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Lap dancing, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Nipple Play, POV First Person, Rejsehunt, Yoga sex, butt plug, minor hurt/accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/pseuds/Hannibalsimago, https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/pseuds/purplesocrates
Summary: First part in the Love Between the Shadow and the Soul collection.Allan is trying to rebuild his life on his return from the Hague and has been told he needs to take yoga classes as part of his anger management.  Begrudgingly he agrees but soon is distracted by a man wearing pink shorts who seems even more broken that he is.  Allan needs to know more about this elusive man but can't seem to catch him to talk to him. That is until they crash into each other and have no choice but to get to know each other.





	A Flexible Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to [@helloyangmal](http://helloyangmal.tumblr.com/) for the info on what coffee Lucas likes!
> 
> The yoga sex is based on a actual video which we both saw! Its epic! The crazy yoga sex described is based on reality!
> 
> Than you to @hotsauce418 for coming up with Rejsehunt for the pairing name.

 

You sigh. _Yoga. Fucking Yoga._

 

Another fucking Thursday night away from your son Victor. Stupid anger management class requirement from the department. This was the least innocuous choice. You were hoping to be in a class with some female distractions. Just your luck it was an all male class with a male instructor.

 

Every week it is the same. Same students, same location in the room, same everything. Then one week a bespectacled, sandy-haired man enters the studio and strips off his sweatpants, showing off _pink shorts._ You can’t help the smirk that comes across your face. Everyone else was in black yoga pants and t-shirts. Not this guy, he is in _pink shorts._

__

 

You manage to lower your gaze from the shorts and get a good look at the scars on the guy’s left knee and wince. Definitely knee replacement surgery or something _really_ nasty.   

 

The instructor, Blake, who quite frankly annoys you with his overly gym-tightened body. You try not to dwell on why this annoys you. His name also irks you, _Blake,_ how cliche. _Do they clone these people?_ Blake claps his hands, shaking you out of your angry revelry and reminding you why you need these classes. He asks for everyone to take their places for the opening sequence. Blake then leads the class through a routine meditation and breathwork, calling for everyone to be in a cross legged Sukhasana, one of the easier poses.

 

You can’t help noticing that Blake has to come over and assist pink-shorts guy due to his knee issues. _Probably here as part of rehab._ Your eyes narrow as you notice Blake has his hands on pink-shorts’ knee, you realise you envy those hands.  Blake clucks and scolds you to concentrate on your breathing please.  You mumble something under your breath and try to stop getting distracted.   _Why is he wearing pink shorts though? I mean who does that?_

 

The rest of the class is a boring repetition of the same poses you go through every week. You keep throwing quick furtive glances at pink shorts who does not seem to notice.  Maybe because he is no longer wearing his glasses and also seems to genuinely grimace in pain when he has to move his knee.  You try to concentrate through the sequence for the class consisting of warm up, standing poses, peak poses, floor poses, cool down and final relaxation.

 

No matter how hard you tried though your concentration went out the window tonight. _Those damn pink shorts!_ Like a neon sign, your attention kept drifting over to them, the pink a change from an endless sea of black. That’s all it is just the colour catching your eye, not the long lithe legs, the graceful movement, the soft strands of hair falling over his face, all of which remind you of another time, another place. You keep shaking your head to try and regain some semblance of coherent thought.

 

It doesn’t help that Blake continues assisting pink-shorts nearly every pose to modify it for his limited range of motion. You understand the reason for it, but it doesn’t stop it from getting on your nerves because it makes the class that much longer. Pink-shorts can’t help it but it still grates. _Whoever said yoga was relaxing was out of his mind._ Not that you mind if you allowed yourself to think about it, a part of you never wants this class to end.  

 

After class, you are impressed by the speed with which pink-shorts gets dressed and out of the building. One of the other classmates asks you if a beer would be in order _when is it not_ you think as you decide this is the best news you have had all night. The group leaves the building and you see pink-shorts on an older style bicycle, pedaling as if his ex-wife was after him for child support. You smirk and shake your head as you light a cigarette which Blake sees and shakes his head disapprovingly at you. You are so glad a guy like that would not be seen dead in a pub drinking beer. You’ve had enough Blake for an evening, you decide as the group wanders off.

 

^^^^^^

 

The routine over the next few months never varies. To top it all off, pink-fucking-shorts is going to be the death of you. Your eyes are constantly drawn to him and those long legs. Images flash across your mind of another pair of long legs tangled in your own. You really need to focus.  This class is supposed to be making you calmer but at the moment it is just making you a confused mess of old memories with the possibility of new ones haunting the edges of your mind.  

 

While you feel like you are a constant burning furnace of something that you are refusing to think about, the weather outside has gotten increasingly horrid. Tonight, it is cold. Bitter rain makes the autumn leaves cling to the pavement as if they have been painted onto the concrete.

 

 _Yup, there he is._ The thing is by now you know everyone’s name from the casual chit chat either in class or in the pubs afterwards. All except for pink-shorts as you call him in your head, who always sprints out of class as if he was training for a marathon. You long for him to join you all in the pub but he never stays long enough for you or anyone else to ask him. Despite some casual enquiries with the other guys no one knows him or his name.  They laugh about his pink shorts and it takes a lot of self restraint to not hit them. _Maybe the yoga is helping_ , you think, _yeah probably not_.

 

It has now become  a personal challenge for you to try and see underneath pink-shorts’ infuriating polite facade. He gives minimal eye contact, keeping his head down as if he is expecting to be beaten, flinching away from any human contact except when absolutely necessary. That soft looking hair falling in front of his face every time he lowers his head. The way he tries to hide his height, stooping slightly, if he could he would melt into the wall. The careful way he takes his glasses off and places them in their case, delicate but strong fingers - not that you have noticed.  

 

Tonight, just like every Thursday night before it, pink-shorts arrives just before Blake, stripping off his outer heavier pair of pants, leaving him with his usual attire. It’s a show you look forward to every class.

 

Afterwards, you turn down the offer of a drink from the regulars. The idea of having a beer in this bone-chilling weather doesn’t tempt you in the least. Heading down the sidewalk to the street to your car, hastily lighting a cigarette, you nearly get sideswiped by a bicycle being ridden in great haste.  

 

“ **Hey** , asshole!” You shout after him.  “Watch where the hell you’re going!”  Instantly regretting the asshole comment when you realise it’s pink-shorts who has almost careened into you.  Even more so when you watch as if in slow motion as pink-shorts looks back over his shoulder at you and misses maneuvering through a pile of slick Oak leaves, hydroplaning through the soggy mess, tires unable to gain any traction, skidding in a horrible looking slide. Suddenly, the front tire hits an unseen sewer grate covered with yellowish brown leaves causing the bike to jackknife sending pink-shorts headfirst over the handlebars with a curse and a yelp as he hits the pavement, legs tangled with the bike.

 

 _Shit,_ you think and race towards him scrabbling for your phone which is somewhere in your pocket as you drop your cigarette onto the cold, wet ground. “ **Don’t fucking move!** ”  You shout. “I’m calling for an ambulance!” You rush to his side.

 

Despite your instruction pink-shorts is now attempting to scramble to his feet. All your patience instantly goes, you snarl “stop it right now!” Grabbing the back of his hoodie up by his neck as if he’s a kitten being carried in a mother cat’s mouth, at your touch, he stills completely. The blood from an apparent head wound is mixing with tears and rain as he glances at you, eyes wide in fear. Speaking softer now that he’s not fighting you say, “I’m calling an ambulance.”

 

He reacts as if he’s been slapped and tries to jerk away “NO!” He shouts.

 

You growl “what the fuck! Do you or do you not realize you could be seriously hurt? Do I have to fucking sit on you?”  You are trying to remain calm as pink-shorts seems like he wants to run even though it might not be physically possible for him to do so, the determination and fear in his eyes is unmistakable.

 

“No, Allan,” and then it’s your turn to jerk away from the oddly accented, soft spoken but pain filled voice, a voice which obviously knows your name. That it makes your stomach flip even in this situation, as the rain is still soaking both of you through and pinks-shorts is clearly in considerable pain, you try not to think about.  He is now looking at you through rain, blood and tear drenched eyes. His voice is shaking with pain and the effort of attempting to sound firm. “I realize the seriousness of the situation. I just don’t want you to touch me.”

 

You sigh and notice that his glasses have been knocked off in the crash, you remove one of your hands from him and pick them up handing them to him slowly as if he was a deer about to bolt. “Here.” He looks at you and then the glasses.  You see the decision flicker across his face as he slowly takes them and puts them on. They are not straight so you gently reach up to them, he flinches but you are undeterred and gently straighten them. You take a deep breath and remember you are a police officer and can be calm in a crisis despite what the force might think.

 

“Okay, look you are hurt and I want to help you.  Let’s start with your name okay?  You can at least be fucking polite and give me your name like any reasonable person would,” you say while removing both your hands from him and leaning back to give him some space.

 

Pink-shorts sighs, realising that he cannot move and that he is going to have accept your help. “My sincere apology. You’re correct Allan. I’m Lucas,” he says as he starts to shake in the bitter rain.

 

“Nice to meet you, Lucas. Look you’re going into shock. I think your bike may be a write-off. The frame may be broken. You need medical treatment. You’ve hit your head.”  You’re keeping your voice as even as you can, watching him as he thinks about trusting you.  He still won’t look at you.

 

Softly Lucas responds, “Please, no doctors, no fuss, Allan. I’m a very private person.”

 

You sigh and then gently place a hand on his shoulder, lowering your head to catch his gaze through rain and blood spotted glasses. “Lucas, I’m a policeman. I can’t let you do something stupid and potentially fatal. I have some contacts at one of the urgent care centers. Let them check you out for head trauma, broken bones. I will wait with you, ok? If you don’t have anything substantially wrong with you, I will take you home. Bike and all."

 

Lucas nods and leans his head against you, he is shuddering now from the rain and dawning realisation of the pain he is in as the panic subsides. Taking that as assent, you call emergency services and ask for an ambulance. You cradle his head, sitting in the rain soaked street you wonder what you have gotten yourself into.

 

^^^^^^^

 

Hours later, x ray and cat scan completed, Lucas is allowed to go home but only under direct supervision for the next twenty-four hours. It’s not just the head injury but the previous knee surgery which is the culprit. There is too much swelling to make an accurate evaluation so he’ll have to come back for an additional visit.

 

His bike, or what’s left of it is in the trunk of your car. An orderly assists Lucas in getting into your car and straightening his legs out while he hisses in pain, clutching his prescriptions to his chest.

 

Once you are inside and the car door thumps closed you say “Lucas, I need your address.”  You turn the heat on as high as it can go in the hope that Lucas will stop shivering. He gives you the address quickly and you type it into your phone.

You clear your throat as the car pulls into traffic. "Just one thing, I'm sorry that I shouted and startled you. It's why I'm in the class. Anger management. Guess it's not working much for me."

Lucas grunts in reply, obviously in too much pain to converse just now.

As you drive, admittedly somewhat recklessly, you keep checking to make sure he’s awake by asking all sorts of mundane questions, nothing too personal, just enough to make sure he’s engaged. The answers are always fairly monosyllabic but you notice he has stopped shivering and is staring straight out of the window. You can’t see his eyes but his body language seems less tense.

 

The outside scenery changes from urban to rural and then to outright wilderness.

 

“We haven’t passed it yet?” You ask wondering how far out Lucas lives.

 

“No Allan, second turn up here on the left.” He says as he gestures with his hand.

 

It’s more a dirt track than a road. _Pink shorts, no, Lucas, I have to stop calling him pinks shorts now, clearly has a serious social aversion phobia._ You think as you wonder what could have happened to him, maybe something to do with the knee.

 

“So you ride your bike all the way out here? No wonder you head out of class the way you do. But you know all you have to do Lucas, is ask for a ride.” You say this in the hope that you sound warm and that perhaps you have earnt some of his trust.

 

“No, I don’t Allan. I don’t ask for anything other than to be left alone.”  Lucas responds and you feel slightly crestfallen.

 

You pull up into a small driveway.  Set far back in the woods is a small wooden single story home complete with front porch. Well kept from what you can see in the reflected light of the headlights.

 

You turn the car off, unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door.  “Just stay put Lucas. I’ll be there in a second.”

 

Lucas grunts in pain as a reply.

 

You exit the car, noticing how the temperature has dropped since you left the city, shivering as you walk around to the passenger side of the car. You open the door and help Lucas swing his legs out into the nearly-freezing rain, advising him to grab you around either your waist or shoulders as the ground underneath you is slippery. _The last thing I need is for Lucas to go down again._

 

He slips an arm around your waist and moans as you help him to rise to his feet. “Hang on to my belt, Lucas. Let’s get you up to the front door,” you suggest as you slam the car door putting one arm around his shoulders, adjusting your gait to his stuttering walk.

 

Lucas opens the front door and both of you stumble inside, Lucas is grimacing and panting with exertion. “Where do you want to be?” You ask.  

 

“I, ugh, I need to lie down. Everything hurts.”

 

“I’m sure it does.” You respond sympathetically.  “Which way?”

 

Lucas points down a short hallway and with him clutching you tightly, you both begin to make your way to the rear of the house, slowly and carefully, every step causing Lucas to wince.

 

“So you’re here all on your own? No pets?” You ask attempting to distract Lucas from the pain he is in.

 

“I had a bad experience with pets. I would prefer not to recreate that again,” clipped conversation, minimal information conveyed again in a monotone.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that. You seem so isolated out here. I didn’t mean to pry.”  

 

Reaching the bedroom, you help Lucas to the bed, listening to him hiss in pain as he sits down.

 

“Change of clothes?” You are both still damp from the rain.

 

“Dresser, third drawer down.” Lucas points again and you make your way to the dresser. ”Feel free to borrow something. You must be soaked too.”  You nod a thanks and retrieve a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and bring them over as Lucas starts to strip off his muddy, damp clothes. “Let’s get you sorted first.” You say and try to ignore the way your stomach flips as soft chest hair is revealed, small droplets of water still clinging.  

 

“Dammit! I can’t bend my knee!” Lucas looks as if he’s going to throw something as he attempts to remove his trousers.

 

You smile understanding his frustration. “Here, let me help,”you say as you kneel down on the floor in front of him, trying not to notice his pants pulled down to his thighs, pale flesh visible between the damnable pink shorts and sodden pants, long lithe legs. You refocus on his wet shoes and start to unlace, loosen and wriggle them off his feet, trying not to jiggle his legs any more than is necessary.

 

You peel the socks off his feet and try not to get distracted again by his feet which seem to be far more beautiful than any feet have a right to be.  You carefully ease the pants down over Lucas’s lacerated, bruised legs and and swollen knees, listening to his sudden inhalation as you notice the unintentional spasm as you graze his left knee. “Sorry, Lucas”

 

Lucas falls back on the bed as you get his pants off completely.

 

“Where is the bathroom?”  You manage to sound calm as you ask this but it’s taking a lot of self control.

 

“Through there,”  Lucas gestures weakly.

 

“Ok, back in a minute. Thanks.” You head into the bathroom taking the opportunity to take another deep breath and attempt to focus on the task at hand.  Returning with a large towel you hand it to Lucas.

 

“Gonna need those shorts off.”

 

Lucas covers his hips with the towel and shimmies out of the pink shorts. _Oh god he wears nothing underneath them. Get it together!,_ you think again  They come off easier than the pants and once past his angry looking joints, you assist in pulling them off. You try not to think about the fact that you are holding the very article of clothing that has become an obsession of yours over the last few months.

 

“Where’s the laundry room?”  You say as you stare at the shorts in your hands, still warm.

 

Lucas murmurs and gestures in the general direction of down the hallway you both just came down. In response to his murmured answer, you grab a t-shirt from the dresser and a pair of jogging bottoms for you to wear. Gathering up all the wet clothing and exiting the room, he waits until you leave before drying off.

 

When you return, having changed into the borrowed clothes and put all the wet ones in the wash, Lucas is lying on the bed with a t-shirt on and his lower half covered with the towel, boxers fallen down to his ankles after the aborted attempt to get them on.

 

Wordlessly, you assist with getting the boxers up past his abused knees, leaving them at thigh level just below the towel.  Standing up you see the medicine bottles. Moving toward them, you hear rustling behind you along with muttered curses and moans.

 

Turning around, you measure out the various anti inflammatory meds and move back towards the bathroom to grab a glass of water.

 

Placing the glass and pills on the bedside table, “Do you have flexibility to get into bed unassisted?”

 

“Just tried that. Feels like heated metal skewers in my left leg.”

 

“Lie back and let me help. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

 

Lucas lays back on the bed while you grasp his calves, lifting them up and extending his legs, ignoring his burst of obscenities as his knee flexes. You pivot and he pulls himself up the bed at the same time, ending up in the middle of the bed.  Moving back to the bedside, you pull back the covers to place them on the side of his body, he lifts his hips and you yank the covers under him moving to the opposite side, then you help to get his legs covered.   

 

You hand him the meds and the water. “You good?”

 

“Fuck that.”  He says in response to the proffered meds.

 

You shrug in response placing the glass and meds on the bedside table, saying,  “they are here if you need them.” Unable to help staring into his hazel eyes, you gently take his glasses off, folding the glasses carefully and placing them on the table next to the water and pain meds. “So where do I bunk?”

 

“Sofa, sheets are in the bottom drawer, extra pillows in hall closet,” Lucas slurs already beginning to fall asleep from the exhaustion of the evening.

 

“All right, Sleeping Beauty.” You say with a smile and a small laugh.

 

A strangled chuckle, “fuck you.” Lucas says as you turn to walk away. “Allan?” You stop and turn around to face him. “Thank you for taking me to the doctor and bringing me and the bike back here, and well, everything. I should have said it sooner. Been alone too long I think it’s made me rude.”

 

You smile and look at him to see his eyes are half open. “It’s ok Lucas. You would have been an ass if you fell asleep before you said it but as you’re in pain, I’ll cut you some slack,” you laugh as you shut the light off.

 

You reach the door and pause “this is gonna sound like a parent but door open or shut?”

 

“Open please. In case I need help to, well, I don’t need to spell it out for you. Sorry.” His voice is so soft it makes you ache a little.

“No problem, night.”

A sleepy “Sleep well.”

 

^^^^^^^

 

Several hours later, you are awakened from a sound sleep by a strangled shout. Looking about and completely disoriented, it takes you several minutes to recall the evening’s events and where you are. The tumult continues while you attempt to orient yourself.

 

Thinking Lucas has fallen out of bed or broken something, you leap off the sofa, banging your knee on the coffee table and swearing mightily.

 

“Godammit! **Okay I’m coming Lucas**!” you holler as you turn on the hallway light and rush into the bedroom.

 

Turning on the bedroom light, you see Lucas thrashing around, eyes wide and panting as if he’s running a marathon. Strangely, he doesn’t react to you or the bedroom light.

 

“What the?” You reach his side and shake his shoulder which feels like stone, muscles completely clenched, “ **Lucas** ! **Wake up**!” You exclaim as you realise he is still asleep and clearly having some kind of nightmare.

 

Suddenly, he shudders and tries to slap your hand away. You grab his arms, immobilizing him, sense memory taking over and just like that, it’s over as he gasps awake.

 

“What the hell, Lucas! What was that?” You’re still concerned as you apply gentle pressure to keep him still.

 

He moans, and shudders, trying to draw away from you.

 

You release his arms and help him sit up. He is shivering, teeth chattering, panting. Walking into the bathroom, you run warm water over a washcloth and grab a small towel, bringing both back to the bedroom.   When you return he’s sitting against the headboard, banging his head against it, fingers covering his eyes, attempting apparently unsuccessfully to practice mindful breathing from the yoga class.

 

Not wanting to freak him out you softly say “I’m going to sit on the bed ok, Lucas?”

 

He nods eyes closed, still trying to bring his breathing under control. The air is pungent with fear sweat.

 

You sit on the bed next to him, “Give me your left arm please.” Lucas complies and extends his arm, breath hiccuping.

 

Treating him like Victor when he’s had a nightmare, bringing him back from whatever darkness in his head, “Shhh. It’s all right. This will make you feel better,” you carefully wipe his left arm and hand with the wet washcloth and then dry him off.

 

You continue the sponge bath, wiping away all traces of the fear sweat as you murmur gentle assurances and Lucas gets his breathing under control, only occasionally hiccuping. You take off his fetid t-shirt and continue to wipe down everything above the waist, front and back, drying him off as you go.

 

You get up and take the t-shirt and towels to the bathroom. On the way back you retrieve a fresh shirt from the dresser and you hand it to him.

 

He puts it on and mumbles “Thank you. I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

 

“Anything you want to tell me about? Can I get you anything?”

 

“A drink please.” Lucas smiles strained half smile.

 

“Alcohol?” You suggest.

 

A strangled “yes. In the living room cabinet.”

 

“Be right back.”

 

Returning with a bottle and two glasses, you pour two fingers of whiskey and hand him the glass, repeating the action for yourself you leave the bottle on the bedside table.

 

“So are you a soldier? Is that what this is?” You had wondered that when you saw the scars on his knees and the fact that he seems to show some signs of PTSD.  “I told you I was police so I have seen a lot. I am not easily shocked.”

 

A barked laugh, “I should just give you my ID and be done with it.”

 

“What would I find if you did?” You don’t know who this guy is and what his past is but there is something there and it’s something that’s not good.

You hold up the bottle to him and he accepts another drink.

 

Lucas sighs “sit down.”  You comply once again gently sitting on the end of the bed you watch as Lucas takes another large sip from his drink.  He looks at you and begins to talk in a low voice.

 

“I come from a small village in Denmark. I used to be a kindergarten teacher. A respected member of the community. I had friends, a family, a dog. Normal everyday things.”

 

Another gulp of whiskey accompanied by a shaky breath.

 

“I was accused of something evil, heinous. Everyone believed I did it. I was beat up, ostracized, hated. My dog was killed. My life, my family’s life was hell. It didn’t matter that I was innocent, that the child apologized to me for saying what she did, for making up the story. A year afterward, someone tried and came very close to killing me proving that not everyone was comfortable with me attempting to resume any normalcy. To protect my family, I left. I’ve been alone since.”

 

“Jesus Christ Lucas!”

 

“The knee is a present from the community, something to remind me everyday of where I stand.”

 

“Was anyone charged with trying to kill you?” You speak softly as you take all of this in.

 

“No I never saw them. It was during hunting season. Would have been near impossible to figure who it was. To report it would just stir up more anger and fear. The community was willing to accept my son. I didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.  Especially as my son hates me for what happened. This way at least he can live in peace. So that’s why I live as I do. Act as I act.”

 

“Do you see your son anymore?”  A choked sob is the only answer. “So what set off the night terrors?  Or do you have them a lot?”

 

“I have not had any in awhile but it could have been the pain, a stranger in the house, dunno, lots of stuff in my head.”

 

“Fuck! I can see that. Do you want me to stay for a bit until you fall asleep?”

 

“No, Allan, thank you. You can leave now if you want, you’ve done more than enough for me.”

 

“What and spoil such a lovely evening?”  You smile and take another drink.

 

A barked laugh.

 

“You’re not a bad man Lucas. Believe me I’ve seen evil and you ain’t it. Now, gimme that glass and get some fucking sleep.”

 

A very soft, “Thank you Allan.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

You grab the glasses and bottle and head back to the sofa. Your own story can wait until daylight.

^^^^^^^^

 

The sun peeks through the curtains and puts one of the skewers Lucas mentioned in your head. There is that disorientation again, but it’s less this time as you can hear Lucas calling.

 

“Be right there!” you shout back as you wonder how long he’s been calling. You make your way to his room while saying, “I’m sorry Lucas! Have you been calling for me for very long?”

 

“No,”  his voice sounds tired and laced with frustration.  “I tried to get up on my own but my knee had other ideas.”

 

Pulling back the blankets you look at the roughed-up knee. “You are going to need crutches, Lucas. Or at least one.”

 

Lucas manages to shuffle himself to toward the side of the bed as you crouch down so he can reach up and put his arm around your shoulder.   “Okay all set? Upsy Daisy.”  You gently begin to stand holding Lucas’ weight as you rise.  Lucas moans and swears as you help him stand. He’s not putting weight on the left leg at all. You move around to that side and slide your arm around his waist steadying him.

 

He hops one step at a time holding onto your shoulder as the two of you move to the bathroom.  It is slow going and you try to concentrate on helping Lucas instead of the feeling of his warm body so close to yours, and the fact that you have to keep your head down so you can keep your steps in time with his, meaning you get an uninterrupted view of those legs.  Even injured they are still beautiful.

 

Once you get to the bathroom you leave him to perform his morning ablutions. Taking the t-shirt and used towels, you go to the laundry room to sort the clothes out, putting yours in the dryer so you can change back into them before you go.  You then make your way back to the bedroom to tidy it up as way of distraction from all the confusing feelings you have right now.  It’s just too early to sort through it so you push it to the back of your mind and set about finding a robe which you lay on the freshly made bed.

 

Hearing Lucas call, you help him back into the bedroom and offer support as he dons the robe. He is pale and frowning and you bring the medicine bottles with you as he hobbles past the bedside dresser.

“How about I put you on the sofa, Lucas? You can stretch out and it’s near the front door.”  He nods and you help him shuffle to the living room.  His breath hitches as you lower him to the sofa. Propping his left leg on the coffee table, you place a pillow underneath his heel.

 

“Comfy?” You ask and Lucas smiles and nods. “Breakfast?”

 

“Coffee please Allan, and toast. You help yourself to whatever you like.”

 

“Coffee and toast will suit me fine,” placing the pills close to Lucas in the hope he will take them, you head toward the kitchen.

 

After a call and response type conversation as to what is located where (coffee-Karat brand, of course) and preferences (black), you find a breakfast tray and load it with the French press along with coffee cups, and toast. Carrying it into the living room, you return for the butter and jam along with cutlery.

 

By the time you are back, the coffee has been poured and your cup is waiting. The empty water glass is proof that Lucas has taken his pain pills.

 

Gesturing towards it, “How long do those take to kick in?”

 

“Not fast enough. I don’t need your pity, Allan.”

 

You smirk at that and think about making a joke about how he isn’t a morning person but then you stop yourself. “I wasn’t offering any.” You sit in the armchair grabbing a coffee cup as you settle.  “But you need to be practical. Is there anyone who can help you get around out here? I can take you back to the clinic, get you some crutches.”

 

Lucas looks at you with a strange expression on his face somewhere between exasperated and unsure. You realise that it has been a long time since anyone showed this man any form of kindness, that ache reappears in your heart.

 

Lucas sighs. “You don’t need to do that. They will deliver them today. It was arranged last night,” Lucas fills your coffee cup from the French press and passes you toast.

 

“The bike is a write off. Do you have a car?”

 

“No, I’m self sufficient out here for the most part. I hunt for the pot and the vegetable garden is out back.”

 

You grunt in reply as you bite into the buttered toast.  “Well you are going to need _someone_ to help you. I can stay for a while at least until the crutches get here see how mobile you are on them.” That look again and you inwardly sigh with frustration and sadness that he seems so unused to and confused by simple kindness. “It’s not a problem.  I had no plans today and I have to wait until my clothes are dry.” _Trust me_ , you think, _let me help you._

 

Silence hangs between you as Lucas considers the offer. You watch his shoulders eventually relax as he decides to trust you. “Okay, thank you.”  

 

You smile and take a sip of the coffee. “God, Lucas, this coffee is fucking awesome! Oh shit, I'm sorry! It just slipped out!”

 

Lucas chuckles and you decide you like to hear that sound coming from him. “It's ok, Allan. Try to not have it be every other word and I’ll let it slide.”

 

Comfortable silence returns but you can almost hear Lucas thinking, he eventually breaks the moment and softly asks “you know my story, what’s yours?”

 

You smile and look away out of the window realising it’s raining again. “Not much to it really I used to work for a homicide team we went all over Denmark solving murders.  Just a small group of us we would be called in when local police were out of their depth.  Then we lost funding so we all had to go our separate ways for a while that’s when I did some undercover work.”  

 

You think of the months in jail, knowing your whole team except one thought you had become a criminal.  Your family thinking you had thrown it all away. The reasons why you had, the reasons you told yourself you had and the reason that would haunt you at night in the cold cell.  Those clear eyes, pale skin and strawberry blonde hair of the one man you trusted more than anyone else in the world.

 

“You were undercover?” Lucas asks as you manage to turn your head to meet his gaze, you find soft brown eyes and feel that ache again.

 

“Yes. I had to go to jail and infiltrate a biker gang.  No one knew I was undercover except one man.  My team thought I had betrayed them so I know what it’s like to have everyone think something about you that isn’t true.  Then when I got out we got the team together again for one last case and it ended well … badly.  I had to go to The Hague to clear my name, someone close to all of us got hurt badly.” You think of Johnny in the hospital and the way Gaby had become so broken she looked like a fragile little girl.  How La Cour had tried to reach you but you wouldn’t let him. “Now I am back and I am trying to get my life together.  I have a son but I do not get to see him often, so Lucas I can empathise more with you than you think.”

 

Lucas watches you carefully as he takes all of this in. “How is the person who got hurt?”

 

You look away again as the hurt coils in your chest, tears threaten to spill in your eyes as you think about seeing Johnny laying there unable to move. You can’t help feel responsible. Everyone says they don’t blame you but you see it Gaby’s eyes every time she looks at you.

 

“He is getting better but he may not be able to walk again, he used to play football professionally and now he never will again.”

 

Lucas suddenly realises he knows the case “Johnny Olsen!  That’s who you mean?  I remember that news report! My son was a big fan of his. They never said how he got injured.”

 

“He used to be our driver and we unofficially used him as part of the sting operation. He tried to save me but got beaten up for his troubles.”

 

“Save you?  Does that mean you were also hurt?”

 

You nod and continue to look out of the window.

 

“Wow, Allan! I had no idea.”  His voice seems gentler now as if he has finally realised you are someone he can trust as well as someone who knows pain.

 

You look over at him again and smile “see we have more in common than you think.  At least you were innocent of the crime you were accused of.  I should never have gotten Johnny involved I was reckless.”

 

“That couldn’t have been all your decision though.”

 

You think of pale long legs and green eyes. “No not entirely but I was the one who was there and I should have been able to stop it.”

 

“I imagine that in your line of work it is hard to control everything no matter how hard you try.  He made a choice to be part of it he knew what he was getting into.”

 

“Yes I suppose.”  You might logically believe this but you will never feel it in your heart, there is guilt inside you that will always make part of you feel empty and hollowed out.  The only time you truly feel happy is the few days you see Victor.

 

“I guess we all have our crosses to bear.”  Lucas says softly and you look back at him and smile.

 

Spending the rest of the morning talking about anything other than your past you find an easy rhythm with Lucas as he relaxes in your company.  You find you make each laugh, you talk about your sons and the hopes you each have for them.  It’s hard not to think of a time when you used to do this with La Cour but after a while even that memory lessens.   You realise that the connection you can feel forming with Lucas is different, it scares you slightly the thought of being vulnerable with someone again.  You realise that it must be just as terrifying for Lucas.  

 

Eventually the crutches arrive and you help Lucas figure out how to use them this also involves a lot of laughter as it turns out that Lucas doesn’t have the best balance.  After a few misfires Lucas seems to be getting the hang of it and is managing to move around the house with ease.  You realise that this probably means you should go and you try to ignore that ache again at the thought of it.

 

Lucas is on the sofa again and you have made sure he has everything he needs you have gotten changed into your clothes which are now dry and you get your stuff, putting on your coat ready to leave.

 

“Do you have everything you need?”  You ask for probably the tenth time.

 

“Yes Allan, thank you.”  Lucas’ tone has turned from frustrated exasperation to a more fond  form of exasperation which pleases you.

 

“You will call me if you need anything.”  You have put your number in his phone and his in yours.  “I’ll call you later to check in and I’ll come by in the morning with some supplies for you.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“Stop arguing with me.  I will talk to you later.”  You smile and he nods and waves at you to leave.  You just about resist the almost instinctual urge to lean down and kiss his forehead and manage to leave.  Once in the car you sit there head against the headrest, eyes closed and sigh. _Shit,_ you think as you begin to realise that ache is still there and seems to be growing.  

 

^^^^^^^

 

While Lucas recuperates you see him most days some times you stay over when you have had too many whiskeys.  You are becoming friends and you find you miss him when you don’t see him, you think about him more than you should, you try to forget the heat filled dreams you have when you wake aroused in the mornings.

 

Once Lucas is well enough you both decide to resume yoga and you pick him up every week and drive there and back together.  You try not to read too much into the fact that Lucas has not yet replaced his bike. _It just means he hasn't gotten round to it.  I could offer to help him get a new one but then I would not have a reason to see him as often._  These thoughts whirl around your head and you desperately, unsuccessfully, try to ignore them.

 

^^^^^^^

 

Just before the Christmas season begins in earnest, Blake makes a couple of announcements in class, one is about the introduction of an intermediate yoga class which will start the second week in January for anyone who wants to advance. The second is that Blake is getting married. You wonder who would marry such a self obsessed man and catch Lucas’ eye who seems to know what you are thinking and smirks back at you.  On the drive back to Lucas’ you start to talk about the wedding and the stag party that seemingly you have all been invited to.

 

“Do you know who he is marrying?” You ask, snow is falling outside and you need to make sure you are paying attention to the road which is becoming increasingly difficult with Lucas so close.

 

“Blake?” Lucas says as he glances at you which you feel more than see, you nod. “I thinks its that pretty girl Jennifer who is always hanging around at reception they seem to be close.”

 

“When did you notice this?  You used to run out of class like a bat out of hell.”  You laugh to cover the disappointment that Lucas has noticed a woman.

 

Lucas laughs “well you are slow, you take ages to get all your shit together so I notice things more.”

 

You laugh nervously again as you don’t want to tell Lucas that the reason you take so long is because you like to watch him get dressed again at the end of the class, one final glimpse of those pink shorts. “Well I am sorry that you have to wait for your chauffeur.”  You meant this as a joke but as you soon as you say it you sense that Lucas has taken it the wrong way.  “I don’t mind, Lucas, I like driving you.”   _Oh crap,_ you think, _that’s not what I meant to say._ “I mean that I like spending time with you it’s not a problem or anything.”   _That was worse, fuck,_ you think.

 

Lucas doesn’t say anything for what seems like hours but in reality is just a few minutes and then you feel those brown eyes on you again and hear that soft lilting voice say “I like spending time with you too.”

 

^^^^^^^

 

After a few months the week of  Blake’s wedding has arrived.   His stag is this evening, all the guys from the yoga class are coming as well as some of Blake’s gym tightened friends.  While not especially thrilled with the night’s activities, to be sociable, you go along with the group. What’s more surprising, is seeing Lucas involved. You hope that the only reason he’s going along is because you are.

 

Over the months, you and he have formed a friendship of sorts, a camaraderie. He’s loosened up in class, more comfortable with conversation, smiles, jokes and laughter coming a bit easier. Still reticent, but no one pushes for more than he’s comfortable with. Driving him to the yoga classes and occasionally to rehab, has established that there’s some safety, some kindness and he seems to soften in your presence. _Less guarded, angry_ , _nice to see_. You wonder if he has the same impression of you.

 

It’s these thoughts that you are ruminating on in the rented limo, among the mixed group of men, leaving the third bar of the evening, being driven to a strip club, the last stop of the evening. Lucas is sitting across from you looking tense. The limo pulls up in front of a building, all glass and chrome with a line down the block.

 

The group exits the vehicle and is shown into the club and then to a private party room.  After an obligatory round of drinks, the best man announces that dancers have been arranged for the evening. He continues to say lap dances can be purchased anonymously for members of the group. Everyone naturally looks at the groom. The women enter the room and proceed to go through their dance routines.

 

You make a decision to stay only as long as politeness sake and excuse yourself to find the restroom, thereby forgoing another round of drinks. As you return, one of acquaintances from the yoga class pulls you aside and slurs drunkenly that he’s fixed Lucas up with one of the dancers.

 

Thinking, _It’s really early for that kind of behavior,_ you resolve to grab Lucas and leave at the earliest opportunity. Shoving the drunk away, maybe a bit harder than necessary, growling “fucking asshole” at him, you enter to private room to see it’s too late. Lucas is cornered, surrounded on both sides by dancers cooing at him with a gyrating woman on top of him.

 

He looks absolutely miserable and is trying to look anywhere but at the woman’s body in front of him. It proves to be an impossible task as she dips and sways, mirroring his darting eyes and keeping herself plainly in view. Lucas grows paler as the show goes on and the catcalls from the men grow louder, more suggestive. Finally, Lucas’s ordeal is over with and he all but throws her from his lap as he stands, eyes darting around the room, looking for the exit, an ally, anything. You catch his eye, his posture slumping slightly in gratitude and you make a let’s-get-out-of-here gesture. A genuine smile breaks across his face and both of you leave the rest to their debauchery.

 

Grateful to be outside the club, you tell Lucas he can come back to your place and you’ll take him home tomorrow. He nods and hails a cab, both of you piling in the back. Lucas sinks back against the seat, closing his eyes on the way to your house.

 

^^^^^^^^

 

You open the door, motioning him inside. “It’s not much Lucas but please make yourself at home.”  Lucas has never been to your house before, you always drive back to his.  It feels strange but nice to have him here.

 

“You know this is the best part of that whole evening, Allan. I only went along with the rest of it because it would have made things awkward in class.”  You try not read too much into that comment, _was that the only reason?_ You long to ask.

 

Both of you toe off your shoes, and you ask, “What would you like, more alcohol, coffee, water?” You know you need more alcohol and you hope he will join you.  Now that you have spent a few evenings at his place drinking you enjoy seeing the loosening and uncoiling that happens when Lucas drinks.  You hope he will feel as comfortable here in in your house as you do in his.

 

“A drink, whiskey if you have it,” he answers and hands you his jacket which you hang next to yours by the door.  

 

You nod, making your way to the kitchen while Lucas sits on the sofa, breath ratcheting up as he moves his left leg.

 

Returning with the bottle of Johnnie Walker Double Black and two glasses, you sit on the sofa, cracking the seal on the bottle, you pour a generous portion and hand Lucas his glass.  You then light a cigarette and inhale deeply.

 

“So I’m a special occasion, am I, Allan?”  Lucas says gesturing to the bottle of good whiskey.

 

You chuckle. “I hardly ever have company. And to drink something of this caliber alone...It’s made to be, meant to be shared.”  You feel as if you might have given too much away with that but Lucas doesn’t seem to react.

 

“Then, I’m doubly honored,” Lucas says as he sips from his glass, you try not to watch the rim of the glass slide between his lips and the liquid make its way into his mouth.  Instead you take another drag of your smoke and sip your whiskey.

 

“Sorry about what happened back there.”  You say and are surprised at how normal your voice sounds because you don’t feel normal sat here so close to Lucas trying not to look at those soft lips of his.

 

Lucas’ voice is rising, “I dislike being made fun of, laughed at.”

 

You purposefully make your voice softer, “I know, Lucas. I don’t think that was anyone’s intention.”

 

“Wasn’t it?” Lucas is looking at you with bitterness in his eyes and it makes that ache come back again with a vengeance, you long to take it away from him.

 

You meet his eyes you want him to know you mean what you say. “No. I think someone wanted to give you a bit of pleasure, a bit of fun.”  A beat.  

 

Lucas narrows his eyes slightly and gruffly says, “was it you who paid for the lapdance? Or you who suggested it?”

 

You meet that accusing gaze and before you can stop yourself you say “don’t take this the wrong way, but when was the last time you got off?”

 

Lucas laughs “so it was you!”

 

“No! Never! That’s not my style.  Seriously when was the last time?” You think that now you have started down this road you may as well see where it leads.

 

“Allan, are you propositioning me?” Lucas laughs wholeheartedly, his face open, carefree, beautiful.

 

A breath in response, “Yes.” Your mind is a joyful panic as you realise that you are actually doing this.

 

Lucas doesn’t immediately acknowledge the breathless _yes_ that just left your mouth and instead gulps the rest of his drink and hands it out for another refill.

 

He takes another sip and your eyes don’t leave him as he surprises you by saying, “so what is your style?” His tone suddenly more flirtatious than you have ever heard it, and your stomach flips again.

 

Now it’s your turn to be surprised and flushed. Deciding _in for a penny, in for a pound,_ you drain your glass, stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table, you place the glass down and stand up wobbly moving in front of Lucas. You try not to think how beautiful he looks in the low light of your lounge with that slight flush from drinking on his cheeks and the easy smile on his face.  Lucas reaches out and grabs your hip with his long elegant fingers, steadying you, “easy, Allan. Nothing has to happen.”  His voice has that slur you have come to love that only happens when he relaxes.

 

Suddenly you are aware that the atmosphere in the room has changed as you are both looking into each others eyes, holding the gaze for longer than either of you ever have before. You can’t speak, afraid of what you must look like. Then Lucas’ fingers seem to have made their way under the hem of your shirt and his thumb begins rubbing your hip bone.  The feeling of his hands on your bare skin make you gasp.  You look at him with his head leaning back against the sofa, hazel eyes hooded, delicate mouth slightly open. His other hand is casually draped on his left leg.

 

You step a bit closer to him and then slowly lower yourself so you are straddling him on the sofa, echoing the earlier events of the evening.   Reaching out, you tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear, then card your fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and hums. You lean forward, whispering in his ear, “you never answered me, Lucas. When did you last get off?”

 

“Ummm, long time ago.”  His eyes haven’t fully opened and you long to see them open and wide.  

 

“What was he like?”  

 

A cut off laugh. “There’s never been a “he”, Allan.” Hazel eyes flick open and look at you.

 

You moan.

 

Lucas smiles and then in a more seductive voice than you could have hoped for he asks “does that excite you?”

 

You almost can’t allow yourself to believe this is happening.  He is so close you can smell the lingering trace of nicotine from your cigarette on his clothes and the smell of the club and the outside but underneath that there is that clean fresh autumnal smell you associate solely with Lucas.  “Yes.”  You admit because it does, the thought of all the things you could do to bring him pleasure than no one else has done before brings an almost overwhelming wave of arousal over you.  “May I kiss you?” You ask and he nods, smile widening, showing his fangs.

 

Your lips brush his, so briefly it can hardly be considered a kiss. _So soft_ is all that goes through your head.

 

“If that’s what constitutes a kiss, the ladies must be disappointed, Allan. You can do better, yes?”  

 

You moan at the challenge and move both of your hands to grab his hair at the back of his head and pull, forcing his chin upwards. His breath hitches. Mindlessly, you start to suck on his bottom lip, nipping and sucking, pulling it between your teeth, listening to his groans. Pulling back, you undo the topmost buttons on his shirt and nuzzle his chin.

 

“It...it really wasn’t you then?”  Lucas manages between gasps and moans as you kiss his increasingly hot skin.

 

“No, why would I share?”  You say into the soft flesh of his neck.

 

“How long?”  He says and you smile.

 

You lean back to look at him admiring the more undone Lucas and the fact that he is allowing you to be this close to him, you think about how you had imagined his skin would taste and how much more wonderful it is in reality. “A while now.” You admit before twisting to retrieve your glass from the table, draining it and replacing it. You look at him, and move back in place, saying, “Lucas, you’re stiff.”  You can feel he is, you can feel yourself getting harder at the thought of it.

 

He whispers, “no, I’m not.”

 

“Yes, you are. Here,” you slide your hand down his chest and stroke his left nipple. His back arches, “Allan!”  His voice sounds deeper and it makes you want to moan but you manage to contain yourself, you want to take your time.  You can sense how long it’s been since Lucas has been touched, you can feel it in the way he hitches and jerks under your hands.

 

“Shall I stop? Do you-” He grabs your head bringing you closer to him he sucks greedily at your mouth.

With the same hand, you explore the expanse of his chest, one pinky on one nipple, thumb on the other, stroking in tandem. He arches his back violently, slender neck extended, Adam‘s apple on display. “Lucas, God, you’re so responsive,” as you tease him with your tongue along his neck.

 

Breaking off the kiss, you bring your other hand down to his chest, slip your hands under his shirt, plucking his nipples, pulling on them, twisting them, listening to him mewl and pant, torso moving although it's hard to tell if it's away from or into your touches.

 

Overwhelmed he turns his head away from you and groans. “I think you can come from just this. Is that what you want?” You say and Lucas shakes his head no, words forgotten.

 

His fingers flutter, clench, unsure of what to do. You reach down and pull his hands and place them on your hips. He tries to get his breathing under control as he looks up at you.

 

“Lucas, let me take off your glasses.”

 

“I won’t be able to see you.”

 

“You don’t have to. Is it alright?”

 

He nods in reply, closing his eyes as you carefully remove his glasses and shakily stand up. You place them on the table and take both of his hands in yours as you pull him upright. He hisses as his knee joint flexes. He stands, hanging on to you, trying to get his breath back.

 

“Lucas, your eyeglasses are on the table. If you hurt too much, I’ll get you settled and sleep out here.”

 

“I’m fine Allan. I want this. I want you.”  Hearing those words from his mouth finally make you feel almost comically weak at the knees and you realise that it’s been a long time for you as well and that god you need this.  All these months of stolen glances, furtive dreams, denial and longing all seem to be crashing down on this moment and it’s almost too much.

 

“Let’s get you comfortable then. I want to take you apart underneath me.” Lucas’s breath hitches as you speak. “Do you want that, Lucas?” He can only nod in response as the two of you make your way into the bedroom.

 

You slowly back him against the end of the bed kissing him, it is languid and careful and you both taste of whiskey.  You begin to unbutton the rest of Lucas’ shirt pushing it off his shoulders and down onto the floor.  Your hands find their way to his back and run down the soft smooth skin you find, his arms encircle your waist as you kiss him again achingly slowly.  Eventually you push him down gently  to sit on the edge of the bed, you kneel down in front of him and pick up each foot in turn carefully when you get to his bad leg and remove his socks.  You then reach up and undo the belt on his pants he helps you shimmy both his pants and underwear off until he is completly naked.

 

You take in this sight as you gently push him so he moves further up the bed and lies down fully.  Taking in the sight of pale skin, soft chest hair and the large erect cock that is standing up between his legs you smile and allow yourself to moan this time enjoying that wonderful blush that comes across his face. You then quickly remove your own clothes while Lucas’ heated gaze never leaves you.

 

Taking your time you crawl over Lucas’s body and make your way to his mouth, bracing yourself on your elbows either side of his head you slowly lower the rest of your body (thanking the gods for yoga and the ability you now have to control your core) onto his so your cocks brush up against each other and Lucas moans at the sensation.  You take your time kissing him you want to savour every swipe of tongue, every brush of those fangs, the softness of his lips is something you can’t get enough of.

 

You start to kiss your way down Lucas’ neck, slowly licking and sucking at the skin as you make your way down his chest.  Lucas is all moans and keens now as you take your time exploring his skin, wanting him to feel every last flick of your tongue, press of your lips against his skin.  You need to make him _feel_ again, you want to kiss away all that isolation, loneliness and pain he has been feeling for all this time.  

 

Eventually you settle yourself so you are straddling him.  Lucas is looking up at you, his eyes are wide and open just how you wanted them.  “If you want me to stop just say okay?”  You know the first time can be overwhelming and you want him to enjoy this you want him to feel comfort, you want his pleasure to take precedence over yours.  You want him to feel worshiped and loved.  That ache returns as you think of how alone this beautiful man has been.  “Okay?”  You repeat. “This is all about you Lucas I want you to feel good.”

 

Lucas moans and nods then you gently and slowly push his foreskin back with his tips of your fingers and Lucas all but shouts, closes his eyes and arches his back at even this small touch. “It’s okay Lucas, relax we are taking this slow.”  You give him time to come back to you, watching those eyes eventually open Lucas nods that he is okay.

 

You can see that already there are a few beads of precum forming on the tip of Lucas’s cock, you gently cup your hands and place the pads of both your thumbs on the slit of his cock spreading the precum gently over the tip. “Fucuucckk.” Lucas moans at your gentle touch and you smile and continue to gently run your thumbs over the top of his cock as more precum forms and you feel it getting harder.

 

“Does this feel good?”  You ask even though you can tell it does, you want him to stay connected to you, both of you in this bubble, you want him to know the source of this worship, you want him to know that you want nothing more than to see him come apart under your touch.

 

“Yes, fuck yes Allan this feels good.”  His voice is cracked with pleasure and it brings a smile to your face.

 

His cock is dripping now and you allow your fingers to smooth the cum down the shaft gently as Lucas moans and arches his neck back.   You continue to move your hands up and down his cock slowly feeling the heat of it.  You continue to masturbate him until his cock is flinching and you can feel that he is close.  Gently lowering yourself again you brace yourself with one hand by Lucas’ head thanking those core muscles again.  You kiss him again and feel his breath hitching and stuttering at the contact.  Your own neglected cock brushes up against your hand as it moves up and down Lucas’ shaft.  Removing your hand momentarily from Lucas’ cock to push your own foreskin down you then grasp both cocks in your hand and begin to move your hand up and down while you gently swing your hips.

 

The combined sensation of your cock against his is too much for Lucas and he shouts your name, his hands move to your ass grasping at flesh.  You moan as the all the tension you have felt these past few months and all this evening finally builds up and you both come moaning and grunting together, minds a blissful quiet as you collapse on top of him.

 

You roll carefully off to the side of him, both of you trying to bring breath under control, pulses beating heavily in your necks. “Lucas, did-” he cuts you off as his fingers come up and stroke your face, fingertips against your lips, and he murmurs your name as if it's a mantra. You shush him gently. “Lucas, let me get something to clean us up. Then if you want, we can cuddle. Ok?” He nods, eyes looking wet.

 

You roll off the bed and head into the bathroom, bringing back a wash cloth and a towel. Lucas is dozing a bit but opens his eyes as you get on the bed. “This might be a bit chilly,” Lucas flinches a tiny bit as you gently clean off his genitals and abdomen, placing gentle chaste kisses on all the newly clean skin. You hand him the towel as you clean yourself up. Finishing up with the towel, you wrap the washcloth in it and drop it off to the side of the bed.

 

“Are you asleep?”  You ask voice almost a whisper, he looks so vulnerable right now but his beauty is still as breathtaking as you always thought it was.

 

“No, come here, Allan.” His voice is quiet with a quiver left from the release of all that tension, all that time without being touched, loved has gone now and you can sense he feels overwhelmed and if you are honest so do you. Moving slowly and carefully you slot your leg in between his, one arm propping your head up, the other stroking him from hip bone to neck and back again.His skin is still warm and you think this is the most relaxed you have ever seen him. He cuddles close nuzzling your neck and chest.

 

“Allan?”  His voice is a little stronger but dreamy at the edges, his eyes are still closed.  You are still stroking him and you feel like you could stay like this forever connected with this man, bodies slotted together as if they were always meant to be.

 

“Hmmmm?”

 

There is pause and you allow him the time to find the words and then it’s almost as if you can feel the moment he decides to trust you, the gift of this almost takes your breath away. A decision, a final letting go “Rock me please.”

 

You do not hesitate and begin to gently and slowly move him back and forth almost like how you use to rock your son. It feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever felt before and you can feel the tears forming in your own eyes as the two of you move together, limbs entangled and bodies sharing heat. “Like this?” You ask because you need to make sure he is comfortable, that he doesn’t feel his trust is misplaced, to reassure him  that this gift he has just given you has been well received.

 

“Ah! Oh, yes.” His voice slurs, accent thicker.

 

“Are you going to get off again?” Your humour usually masks your emotion but right now it feels so intimate to be able to laugh together when you are this close.  It feels so beautiful and that ache you associate with Lucas comes back but now it feels like it’s blossoming from an ache to something more blissful.

 

He laughs, so easy and light that you can’t help but smile at the sound of it. “No! Too tired! But this is really nice.” You nod because it is. It’s been so long since anyone comforted you and since you were able to bring comfort to someone else.  Two lost, lonely and broken souls finding each other.  It may seem cliche, but right now you don’t care because you can feel the cracks inside beginning to find the possibility of healing and you hope that the man you hold in your arms like a precious stone feels the same.

 

You stay like this for moment stretching into a comfortable silence, a warm cocoon of comfort and you smile at a memory and have to share it. “I have a confession, Lucas.”

 

He purrs against your chest, humming happily.

 

“You orchestrated the accident to get into my bed?”

 

Now it's your turn to laugh.

 

“No, although if that was the only way I could get you to slow down I have no regrets that it happened.”

 

Lucas laughs “I think my knee would disagree with that.”

 

“Fair enough. You know I used to call you pink-shorts in my head when I didn’t know your name. I couldn't concentrate with you wearing those pink shorts of yours.”  Lucas laughs and you continue, you need to know the origin of them.  “I mean I understand shorts but what's with the color? Was it a statement of some kind?”

 

“Oh, nothing so obvious.  One of the last things my son did for me was to do the laundry. He washed my clothes with one of his red sport shirts. Everything came out pink. I can't bear to get rid of them no matter how ridiculous they look.”

 

“Oh, Lucas!  I'm so sorry!”  You chastely kiss his soft mouth. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

 

He reaches up for you. “It’s fine, another thing I have to thank my son for if he hadn’t dyed them pink perhaps you would never have noticed me.”

 

“Highly unlikely it wasn’t just the pink shorts after all.” _It was the legs too,_ you think as you feel those weight of those very legs tangled with yours.

 

Lucas laughs.  “Hmm you will have to tell me someday.”

 

You reach up and stroke the hair away from his face “I will I want you to know how beautiful you are.  Right now though you tell me what you need okay?  I’m here for you, anything you need.”

 

“Just hold me Allan. Rock me. Kiss me.”

 

 _I can do that,_ you think as you kiss him languidly on his mouth making your way to soft curve of his shoulder as you bring him closer and gently begin to rock him while stroking his hair, _I can do this forever if you need me too._

 

Neither of you remember falling asleep.

 

^^^^^^^^

 

You have settled into a easygoing relationship, sex wasn't primary but it was sweet when it happened. Both of you were getting comfortable in each other’s skin. After all the time that neither of you had been touched by someone else you enjoy taking your time, exploring each other, feeling every moan and savouring every touch and kiss between you.

 

You don't remember which one of you suggested the trip to the Haifoss waterfall in the Icelandic Highlands to see the Northern lights. Somehow it was on both of your ‘bucket lists’ and it seemed appropriate for the two of you to do it together.

 

The planning for the trip was divided up between you both, Lucas being in charge of organizing the hiking while you arranged the transport and accommodations.

 

The vacation date finally arrived and you drove to pick up Lucas and to load up the car with provisions and hiking gear.

 

Lucas is waiting on the porch with all the essentials as you arrive. Packing the car takes hardly any time at all.

 

Car all packed, both of you climb in and head off to the ferry which will take you to Iceland. The journey will be in stages with the first leg from Denmark to the Faroe Islands, and then from the Faroes to Iceland.

 

“Did you know they have hot tubs up on the deck that can be rented out?”

 

Lucas laughs, a high, sweet, heartfelt sound. “Oh, you libertine! I think if you were to attempt anything, we would be put overboard.”

 

“Of course, I would wait until we were back in our cabin. I'm not an exhibitionist.”

 

Lucas chuckles thinking of the risqué possibilities. “So if we like it Allan, do you think I should put one in at the house!” He asks you playfully.

 

You grin in response.

 

^^^^^^

 

The ferry was lovely, exactly what the two of you expected. Lots of time for conversation, cuddles up on deck, even dancing and restaurants. There was a gym where the two of you kept up your yoga lessons. And of course the infamous hot tubs. Long languid evenings and lazy mornings completed the picture. It had been a long time since you were this happy.

 

All and all, a very pleasant way to start the vacation.

 

^^^^^^^^

 

The ferry docks in Seydisfjordur, and the two of you disembark with the 4x4 for the rest of the trip. It will take about nine hours of driving to reach the Háifoss waterfall. “ _Four hours driving today with a break and five hours tomorrow.”_ Lucas gets one of the pillows out from the back and naps as you drive off, his lovely face, open and vulnerable as he sleeps.

 

After two hours, you stop for gas and coffee. Lucas awakes all sleepy eyed and slightly groggy. You purr in his ear, “You have the most adorable bed head,” as he climbs out of the car and takes the coffee cup from you. He blushes and hides his face in the fragrant steam from the coffee.

 

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he smiles at you over the coffee cup rim.

 

“Such a tease. Promises, promises.”

 

Lucas actually giggles at that. It's so adorable you resolve to see how many times you can make that happen.

 

Piling back in the car, the trip continues.

 

Much later on, at a stoplight you ask out of the blue, “Have you been keeping up your yoga?”

 

“You mean aside from the ferry?

 

You grunt and say that isn't quite what you’ve meant.  “But outside of class have you been keeping it up?”

 

Lucas makes a moe with his mouth and gives you a look of utter disdain.

 

“I have my reasons for asking, Lucas.”  You are driving as usual so are mostly paying attention to the road and only occasionally glancing at Lucas, you can feel you have a smirk on your face but you can’t help it.

 

“Yes, of course, Allan. I just don't see why you are asking. Unless you plan on me performing ‘downward facing dog?’”

 

“Something a bit more adventurous tonight,” was the smug reply.

 

\------

 

Once you arrive at the cabin you present Lucas with the butt plug you have purchased for this occasion, the look on his face is one you wish you could bottle.  You kiss him and stroke his hair and whisper _trust me_ and _you know everything I do is to make you feel good._  You then undo his pants and push them and his underwear to just below his thighs.  Kneeling down infront of him you kiss all up the inside of his thighs until he is shaking with need.  While Lucas is gripping the back of the sofa you push his foreskin back and gently stroke his cock. Taking out the lube that has been warming in your pocket for the whole drive you open it and pour some on your fingers. The plug is waiting on its pouch by your knee.

 

You open him up slowly while sucking him off languidly and then just as he comes you insert the plug inside. He gasps and moans loudly as the end of plug brushes up against his prostate.  

 

You then insist that you unpack and get settled before you let Lucas know what the second part of the plan is.  For you this is also torture as you watch the pleasure and frustration move across Lucas’ face every time he moves. It doesn’t help matters that you are also painfully hard by this point.

 

Eventually, there is no putting it off any longer, all pretense set aside. You pull Lucas into the bedroom and start to strip him him, no shyness or hesitation, then you remove your own clothes until both of you are naked, rigid and dripping. The only difference between the two of you is Lucas shaking with over stimulation.

 

He begins to move towards you and you gently place a hand on his shoulder stopping him. “No, Lucas, I need you to get on the floor on your back in that inverted bicycle pose.”

 

“What?”

 

“Trust me.”  You say and kiss him almost chastely on the lips, “you will enjoy this.”

 

Lucas looks confused for a moment and then relaxes. He knows by now that all you ever think about is his pleasure and so he does as you say.  His knee is much better now, so it’s much easier to do than it would have been a few months ago.  He feels ridiculous but then sees the look of excited lust on your face and smiles.

 

“Support your hips.” You say and he complies.  “Yes!  Just like that.“

 

You reach down and ease out the plug, soothing Lucas's legs as you did so.

 

From Lucas’s vantage point, the only thing he can see is his torso, one very angry looking cock, dripping like crazy and his legs stuck comically up in the air as if he was astride a bike.

 

You then straddle Lucas's ass positioning yourself so you are facing Lucas’s back. Your muscular arms and elbows locked, are supporting you over the empty space beyond Lucas’s body. Your  torso is now completely perpendicular to the floor, muscles rippling as you balanced yourself on your feet and the palms of your hands.  Your legs are astride Lucas's hips your cock directly above his entrance. You ease yourself in, finding no obstacles after all the careful preparation. The only noise filling the room is the ecstatic sounds of intense pleasure that Lucas is making.  You have never heard a sweeter sound before in your life and it makes you moan.

 

Once you’ve bottomed, you began a punishing pace, being able to hit Lucas’s sweet spot on every inward stroke. Yours and Lucas’ combined cries, curses and sighs escalate as Lucas’s pleasureable torture continued.

 

You pause, now fully seated deep within Lucas’s tightness.  

 

“Ok, Lucas. Here’s what's happening next.  After I thrust, I'm going to need you to clench hard, like a motherfucker.  I'm going to walk forward so I'm laying down. I need you to follow me down, putting your feet on either side of my ass. Once we are down, pull your arms to your chest. I'm going to bend my legs around yours and we are going to roll. Got that? “

 

“Yes, Allan. Clench like a motherfucker. Follow you down, tuck my legs around your lovely thighs, pull my arms in and then we roll-left or right?”  His voice is breathless with the exertion, control and pleasure he is experiencing.

 

You laugh “I never thought I would hear you say that!  Roll to the right.  Ok, last one in this position.”  You huff a few times as if you are going to sprint.

 

“Are you ready, Lucas?  It's going to move quickly once we start.”

 

“Yes, oh, God, yes please.”

 

You pull almost all the way out and give one controlled but deep thrust, calling as you bottomed, “Now!”

 

Lucas tightens, seeing your legs move in his peripheral vision he feels you moving forward. He eased his body down, ignoring the aches in his spine and shoulders. Once on the ground, Lucas grasped your thighs with his legs, tucking his arms in and waited for your command.

 

Just before the roll,  you bend your legs around Lucas’s thighs. At the same time his body is completely facing downward on the floor with his palms under his chest, ready to propel you both.

 

Without losing momentum, you give the command and with a powerful push of hands, hips and legs, you roll you both into the new position.

 

Now it is Lucas who is completely prone supine on the floor, his knees are touching the floor but bent at 90 degrees. His hands are flat on the floor, palms down.

 

Your position though is truly mesmerizing.  As you rolled both of you over, your bent legs (which had been bent over Lucas’s thighs) were now positioned on either side of Lucas’s torso. Your body was squarely above Lucas‘s back. And most amazing of all, Lucas _had_ clenched like a motherfucker meaning that you are still seated firmly inside of him.

 

“Good to know you’ve still got it old man,” you chuckle. “Now, what were you saying about downward facing dog?”

 

You sit back a bit and pull Lucas’s hips upward.  Once Lucas is positioned, you drape yourself over Lucas’s back and whisper “I’m going to make you sing for me.”

 

Lucas could only shudder in response.

 

^^^^^^^^^

 

After a later than anticipated start the next morning, you both leave the cabin, taking just the camping equipment and supplies. The two of you will be under the stars tonight.

 

Lucas drives for a majority of the five hours today. There’s not much discussion, both of you are comfortable in silence. The only detour is stopping for a picnic lunch. Lucas insists on feeding you and you reciprocate, both of you laughing in between licking each other's fingers clean.

 

Soon enough, the road trip continues and you arrive at the hike-out point. Everything has been split into two packs which you help hoist onto each other's backs. Locking the car, you follow Lucas who’s ahead on the trail.

 

Both of you make good time on the trail and arrive at your campsite, right above Haifoss falls. Lucas has more experience with pitching a tent and it shows as your first attempt leaves him prostrate on the ground in peals of laughter, eyes tearing and chest gasping for air.

 

He takes pity on you and gets the tent up in no time at all. Dark is falling and you pull out the tarp placing it on the chilly ground. There are blankets to spare and both of you step into the tent to don more layers.

 

The two of you share a cold dinner and spread the blankets out. You sit down first and Lucas sits in front of you so he can lean back against your chest. The two of you wrap up against the cold, thermos and cameras close by.

 

By now, it’s full on dark but you can make out the waterfall just across the way. “Hold me, Allan” and you do that as the overhead light show begins. It's spectacular, colors mostly green, waves of light moving across the sky. You both take pictures and video of the waterfalls and the Aurora Borealis, contently wrapped in a little cocoon of warmth and comfort, nuzzling each other, breathing in sync. _And after all this time, the mindful breathing has paid off,_ you think, happier than you’ve been in a long time, happier than you ever thought you could be with this beautiful, gentle, loving man. You sigh contentedly in his neck, breathing in Lucas’s scent, mouthing his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin.

 

“Allan?”

 

“You have that ‘I want to ask you something ‘ voice.”

 

“If it wasn't so cold, I would take you right here, right now, riding my cock under these stars, this spectacle.”

 

“Hmmmm. Kiss me and maybe I'll consider it.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos is the coffee Lucas buys that Allan loves, comments is the sound of Lucas's laughter at Allan's attempt to put up a tent. xxx


End file.
